Dana could feel her arms begin to tremble as she continued to hold the gun in place, trying to keep her hands poised to fire the gun at any second. Her short red hair blew gently in the wind as she stood in the near-empty parking garage, facing the man who had been all Mulder talked about for the past few weeks. In the six years that she had known Mulder, she had learned that suspects like this never left his mind. Dana hadn't dreamed that she would be the one to catch him, especially in this fashion.

The man, named Charles Stevenson, had been known to seduce women that pleased him and later kill them. Over a dozen had been killed this way, making him one of the most wanted men in D.C. Mulder was fascinated with the way the killer lulled the women into his arms; it seemed he did this simply by looking into their eyes.

At the moment, Dana was not particularly worried about her safety or whether or not she would be able to catch him. He appeared unarmed, and she knew that the contracting of her index finger would disable, if not kill him in a second. He began to step closer to her, casually and at ease. "Don't move any closer. I will shoot," she said as authoritatively as she possibly can. He inches closer still, and whispers, "Put the gun down, Dana. Put it down, honey." She said nothing, not even to ask him how he knew her name. He closed his eyes for a second and opened them so slowly it hurt her to see it. Suddenly, his eyes were completely open, but they were not the same eyes. They were like weapons in themselves, dangerous and threatening, yet when they met Dana's they were the most beautiful, soft objects she had ever seen. They were the only things her mind could possibly focus on at that moment; everything her subconscious was yelling at her was overpowered by the soft, soothing tones of those eyes. In another part of her mind she could feel her hands lowering, and not long after that she heard the sound of her gun falling to the ground. Stevenson came closer to her, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her in to him.

All of a sudden, Dana heard her name being called. The word "Scully!" echoed through the garage like a cannon being fired again and again. The sound was soon followed by a gunshot and she could feel herself fall onto the hard concrete below her. She knew nothing but that the stunning, wonderful eyes were gone, and that the man who owned them was on the ground dead. Dana heard footsteps run up behind her and then strong hands grab her from under her arms and pull her to her feet. She was now face to face with Mulder. He pulled her up to his face and said, "Scully? Scully, are you okay?" She could only manage a shaky nod. He put his arm tightly around her. Mulder picked up her gun and took her to his car, laying her down in the backseat and laid his jacket over her. He leaned against the car, calling people to have them take care of the dead man who had almost killed his partner. Once arrangements had been made for the body, he got Dana up and helped her into the passenger side. She still felt fuzzy and disoriented, but she was able to say, "Mulder, he…he knew my name." He kept his eyes on the road and told her, "Yeah, I think this man had a little more than a talent for charming girls." She groaned, both for the way she felt and what Mulder was suggesting. "So," she began, "he reads the minds of his…his victims?" He punched her on the arm, exclaiming, "Whoa, Scully! Are YOU a serial killer too? You just read my mind." She was too exhausted to come up with any sort of comeback. In fact, not long after that she fell asleep.

...

Fox didn't want Dana to be alone that night, not after what had happened to her. He decided that the easiest thing to do was to let her stay at his place. Once he had gotten to his building, he got out of the car and went over to the passenger's side and picked her up, shutting the door with his foot. He knew it would be a little odd to walk in carrying a sleeping woman, but he was willing to deal with any looks he would get. The hardest part would be getting her up there without dropping her. He stepped up into his building and down the hall to the elevator. He pressed the button and realized that his arms were already getting tired. Mulder tapped his foot on the floor of the elevator impatiently until the doors finally opened and he almost ran down the hall. He cursed as he realized that there would be no easy way to unlock the door. Fox grabbed the keys from his pocket and rested Dana on his forearm as he tried his best to unlock it. Once he finally got it opened he took her inside and went as fast as he could into the bedroom, where he finally laid her down on his bed. He, like normal, would take the couch. He took off her black heels and placed them on the floor next to her. The bed was unmade, but he did his best to straighten up the blankets and cover her up. He shut the door behind him as he walked out of the room.

When he awoke the next morning, he was surprised to see that Dana was not up yet. She was never late to work, and sometimes she talked about reading over early morning coffee or watching the sunrise. The clock read 7:30. They'd have to head to work before long. He decided to give her a few more minutes and then go and wake her up.

In the other room, Dana's eyes opened and she was confronted with the question, Where am I? She sat up and saw shoes all over the floor and clothes draped everywhere. Dana suddenly knew exactly where she was. She noticed that her feet were bare, but she looked down and saw her shoes next to her. Her hands found her neck and she made sure her necklace was still there. It was.

She stood up and opened the door. Dana had no idea if Fox would even be awake yet, but the footsteps coming from his kitchen revealed he was. "Morning, Scully," he told Dana when he saw her. She sighed and asked him, "Mulder, why didn't you take me home last night?"

"Because, I didn't want you to be alone after what happened to you."

"Nothing happened to me, Mulder."

"Are you kidding me? You were so wacked out last night you didn't even wake up when I got you out of the car and carried you up here."

"You know that I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

"Yes, but I was just looking out for you. No one has ever survived one of Stevenson's little seduction trips. I didn't know what kind of effect it would have on you. Look, what if it caused you to walk outside and hurl yourself in front of a car?"

"Mulder…" Dana couldn't put together an answer, but she knew that that was highly unlikely. Finally, she settled on, "We both live in an apartment building. It wouldn't be that easy."

"Well something like that!" he said, raising his voice at her. It had been this way for six years, Fox wanting to protect Dana and Dana wanting to be independent and looking out for herself.

Finally, Dana got to the point. "Well, how am I supposed to get ready, Mulder?"

"What are you talking about? You're dressed already. No one's gonna notice if you wear the same thing twice. You pretty much wear the same thing everyday anyways."

"But what about my hair? And my makeup?"

Fox realized he had forgotten all about that. He sighed deeply. Why did women have to be so picky about everything? "I think you look pretty no matter what you do," he told her. Dana sighed. "Thanks Mulder, but you're not going to fly one past me that easily." Fox poured himself some coffee, took a deep breath, and told her that he would get dressed and run her over to get her stuff.

Twenty minutes later, he sat in the car waiting for Dana to come out. He would have a lot to do today with the Stevenson case. He wasn't done with him just yet, not before he figured out what exactly he could do. Mulder would have Scully do an autopsy first and go from there.

Finally, Dana came out of the apartment building looking fresh like she did every morning. She opened the door and got in the car, saying, "So, Mulder, I was just thinking you're probably going to want me to do an autopsy on Stevenson." Mulder chuckled. "I'm starting to get a little worried here, Scully. You read my mind again." Dana could barely remember the joke he had cracked the night before. She ignored her partner.

Soon, they were in the parking lot of the FBI building where Scully had held a man at gunpoint the night before. She realized that if she and Mulder hadn't parked on the same level of the garage and seen each other get out of the car that morning she'd be dead right now. "Mulder," she asked, "I thought you had a bunch of work to do last night. Why did you even come down to the parking garage?"

"Well," he told her, "there were reports coming in of Stevenson being seen in the area. I wanted to catch you before you left and tell you about it." Dana nodded. They got in the parking garage elevator in silence and remained that way until they reached the X-Files office. Charles Stevenson's photographs and files lay scattered across the desk. Sometimes Dana thought that the desk resembled Mulder's mind as an unorganized jumble of things in which the latest suspect was on top.

Scully knew that she would soon have go do an autopsy, but before that maybe Mulder would straighten up his desk since the man no longer needed to be caught. "So," she said, "I guess it's time to put all these files away, huh?" She almost feared the answer. Odds were he wouldn't stop focusing on this man until he felt that he had proven his theory about him.

In other words, that Stevenson was a mind reader.

"Not until I find out exactly what this man was capable of," replied Mulder as he sat down in front of the desk.

Same old same old, thought Dana.

She found nothing during the autopsy, just the obvious- he died of a gunshot wound. When Mulder saw the report, he wasn't surprised. "Why did you make me do the autopsy if you didn't expect anything?" she asked. "You never can be too careful, Scully." She rolled her eyes.

"Okay, I have my theory." Scully sat down in the chair that faced the desk. "Alright. Hit me," she told him. He took a deep breath.

"Charles Stevenson was obviously a very passionate man. I think he was so passionate that when he saw a women that he wanted, the way he looked at them would drive women into seduction, even if he completely disgusted them. I also believed that this passion was strong enough to give him supernatural abilities. He could see into these women's minds simply because he wanted to know everything about them." He paused. "What do you think, Scully?"

"Mulder, I think that's crazy."

"Why?"

"Because, no passion is ever that strong. I mean, if he was that passionate for these women, why did he kill them?"

"Like so many other cases we've seen, he felt they deserved better than to be on Earth."

She said nothing.

"Come on, Scully, he knew your name. How do you explain that?"

"Think, Mulder!" she says. "There are ways to find these things out! We just learned that!"

Mulder's mind fell back to a few weeks earlier when a man had become obsessed with Scully. He knew everything about her and they had never spoken.

He lowered his volume and tone. "We know he acted on impulse, Scully. If he had seen you before last night you would be dead."

It was one of those times where Dana had no answer for Mulder that would bring what she needed: Scientific proof to prove him wrong.

She gave a defeated sigh. "So, what's next?" she asked. He smirked as he told her, "We're going to go meet his Mama."

...

When they got to Mrs. Stevenson's house, Scully expected to see a woman in tears, but instead, they were greeted by a woman in her fifties, who was very physically fit and looked as fine as ever.

"Mrs. Arlene Stevenson?" asked Mulder. "Yes," she answered, "I'm she."

"We're with the FBI. I'm Agent Fox Mulder and this is Agent Dana Scully. We're here about your son." Arlene sighed deeply and said, "Charlie's troubled soul has passed over to a better place." Mulder thought it was funny that someone could think that a serial killer could go to heaven, but whatever made her happy. They talked with her about her son and what she thought his motive was for the murders. She told them that her son had become a mystery to her as of late. "Charlie was always such a sweet boy. I haven't seen him in years, though. It pains my heart to think that I'll not see him again on this Earth, but where he is, there is no pain." Scully stopped a moment and noticed the decor of the house. There were crosses everywhere, and in the middle of the room lay an open Bible on a mat as if she had been sitting down, reading it for hours. She suddenly snapped out her daydream and asked her, "Did you ever find anything unusual about Charles' behavior?" Her eyes rolled back in her head as she began to think. "He never had any girlfriends. It seemed like her could never stay attached to one person. He was a ladies man." She smiled at the memories. Not long after that, they were back in the car, discussing the woman. "Don't you see, Scully?" said Mulder. "This woman had an obvious passion for God and nothing else. She didn't shed a tear the whole time we were there and her son died last night. We know from Stevenson's files that the guy lived on the streets. He had no job, hobbies or any sort of interest except girls. It makes sense."

Sure, fine, whatever, thought Dana.

When they got back to the X-Files office, she said, "Are you satisfied now, Mulder? Can we clear all of this stuff off?" She motioned to the files and pictures on the desk. "No, leave it there. I want to file a report." She knew exactly how the next few hours would go. Mulder would type up his report and then spend the rest of the day hunting through X-Files trying to find something else to focus his attention on.

"Mulder?"

"Yes, Scully?"

"I know you too well."